


The Ghost and The Darkness

by voxofthevoid



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannigram - Freeform, Inexperience, Infidelity, M/M, More tags to be added, Possessiveness, Rimming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-05
Updated: 2015-02-10
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:52:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxofthevoid/pseuds/voxofthevoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal's first time with a man.</p><p>~</p><p> </p><p>  <i> “Why haven't you stopped me yet?” </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Will asks him, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes are alight with interest. He removes his thumb from Hannibal's mouth in favor of fully cupping his face. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Perhaps I don't want to.” </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Why not? We both know that you prefer women.” </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Hannibal shrugs and carefully takes the hand on his face in one of his own, turning his head to place a close-lipped kiss on the center of Will's palm. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“That's true. However, I am... curious about this. About you.”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>~</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And the claws sink deeper

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on my own [prompt](http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/3819.html?thread=7404523#cmt7404523) at the kink-meme…one that already had a fill. Yeah. Blame my muse because I just couldn’t _not_  write this. 
> 
> The title of the fic is based on this [movie](http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ghost_and_the_Darkness) of the same name that I saw a very long time ago.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Why haven't you stopped me yet?” Will asks him, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes are alight with interest. He removes his thumb from Hannibal's mouth in favor of fully cupping his face._
> 
> _“Perhaps I don't want to.”_
> 
> _“Why not? We both know that you prefer women.”_
> 
> _Hannibal shrugs and carefully takes the hand on his face in one of his own, turning his head to place a close-lipped kiss on the center of Will's palm._
> 
> _“That's true. However, I am... curious about this. About you.”_

When Hannibal discovers that Will's interest in him has a sexual aspect as well, he is genuinely shocked. 

He has always assumed that Will is heterosexual, the incident with Alana only reinforcing that belief. But of course, they never once discussed Will's sexual proclivities during their sessions before his incarceration; Hannibal was too fixated on breaking and molding the man’s mind to pay much heed to such mundane matters. He’s not even certain how long Will has desired him. Even now, they have not actually discussed the issue but then they’ve never really required words to communicate with each other. 

The hints Will offers are as explicit as they are deliberate. Lingering glances, brief flashes of heat in his eyes, blatant invasions of personal space...it's all there, persistently seizing Hannibal's attention and infuriatingly distracting him from much more important matters. Like Will's _Becoming._

But what truly confounds Hannibal is his own reluctance to outright reject these advances despite the fact that he has never before felt even a modicum of sexual attraction to men. Even Will, who was and still is, his one true obsession has never evoked such a desire in him. 

Until now that is. 

Because regardless of his confusion on the matter and his current relationship with Dr Alana Bloom, he finds himself responding to Will's surreptitious flirting, not quite reciprocating but mutely accepting the overtures without a shred of resistance. 

And if Hannibal were to be truly honest with himself, he'd say that he is not only confused but also _nervous_ about this new development. He is not sure how to proceed now and the stark discrepancy between what he wants to do and what he should do is disconcerting. 

Will Graham continues to be the only one who can so profoundly shock Hannibal and draw such strange reactions from him. 

 

    ҉   

       

Will is perched on Hannibal's desk, entirely too close to where the doctor is lounging in his own chair. Close enough to touch, if they so choose. 

Hannibal is not under the illusion that the positioning isn't completely deliberate on Will's part. And if he is inwardly somewhat flustered by the way Will's eyes seem to hold his gaze with searing intensity throughout the course of their discussion... well, that is certainly not something the other needs to know. 

This is uncharted territory for Hannibal, though evidently not for Will. He's not even confident that it is actually sexual attraction that he now feels for Will but he cannot deny that he's _curious_ about how their relationship might change if they allow it to evolve into something beyond poisonous friendship. 

Will is far too tethered to Hannibal for them to drift apart no matter what happens. Even if this goes horribly wrong, all it will do is cause a few weeks of strain between them. And as undesirable as that is, Hannibal is willing to risk that to experiment with this newfound tension. 

The only problem here, it seems, is Hannibal's own uncertainty.  Such a human concern, Will has always made him feel so very human. 

But in spite of the numerous explanations and justifications he's given himself, Hannibal still freezes up when a warm hand comes to rest on the side of his face. 

Will's eyes are fixed intently on Hannibal's face, that keen gaze cataloging his reactions or lack thereof. Slowly, steadily, Will starts trailing his fingertips over the contours of his face, the touch firm and sure with no hesitation hampering the movements. 

A breath he wasn't aware of holding rushes out of Hannibal and he forces himself to relax. Will's hand is rough, much rougher than his own and certainly more so than that of all the women who have touched him this way. Hannibal tries to compare this to Alana's sweet caresses only to find himself thoroughly distracted when a broad thumb slides along his bottom lip. He swallows the urge to part his lips and take the calloused digit in for a _taste_. 

“Why haven't you stopped me yet?” Will asks him, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes are alight with interest. He removes his thumb from Hannibal's mouth in favor of fully cupping his face. 

“Perhaps I don't want to.” 

“Why not? We both know that you prefer women.” 

Hannibal shrugs and carefully takes the hand on his face in one of his own, turning his head to place a close-lipped kiss on the center of Will's palm. 

“That's true. However, I am... curious about this. About you.” 

A flash of movement and then Will is upon him, knees on either sides of Hannibal's thighs, their torsos flush together, mere inches between their lips. The intimate contact is sudden and dizzying, causing Hannibal to gasp in surprise and lean back as far as his chair allows, which isn't much. 

Will smirks. 

“Curiosity killed the cat, Hannibal,” he purrs, eyes narrowing in a distinctly predatory manner, “Are you sure that you're not biting off more than you can chew?” 

“It has served me well so far.” Hannibal doesn't know how he manages to keep his voice steady. Will is beautiful and _dangerous_ in his smooth confidence and he seems closer than ever to the creature Hannibal desires him to be. The creature who is stirring a desire of another kind altogether in him. 

His sexuality has never felt as flexible as in this moment, with Will perched on him as if he belongs there. The strong, hard lines of his body feels wonderful against Hannibal and he catches himself wondering how it would feel to have those muscles pressed against his naked skin. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Will laughs, a deep, dark sound that sends a thrill through Hannibal. 

“It seems like you're not as straight as we both thought you were. Or is it because it's _me_ , Hannibal? Is this appealing to you because I'm the initiator?” 

Hannibal doesn't respond but he knows that Will can read the answer in his eyes. 

“How sweet.” Will tells him with a devious grin. “I like that, you know, the idea that you'd _bend_ so far for me. I like that very much.” 

Hannibal keeps utterly still when Will leans forward until their mouths are nearly touching. Rough, wide palms bracket Hannibal's face, holding him in place as Will murmurs against his lips, “I won't be gentle with you. I hate you far too much for that. But then... you seemed to appreciate it quite a lot when I described killing you. I suppose you can take some rough handling.” 

Well, he can't really deny that the thought of Will being violent, no matter what the context, and especially if it's towards Hannibal, is _stimulating_ in ways that it probably shouldn't be. 

Will lightly presses their lips together and in direct contrast to his words, the contact is brief and faint. Chaste. Hannibal's breath escapes him in a quiet sigh. 

“Tell me to stop?” Will whispers, eyes shut and lips still brushing Hannibal's. 

“No.” He answers and swallows when the hands on his face slide down to grip his shoulders hard. 

The second kiss is hard and bruising, driven by anger and lust. Hannibal finds himself holding on to Will for dear life as his mouth is pillaged by a skilled tongue and sharp teeth, the sensations alien and nearly overwhelming. Hannibal has never indulged in rough sex, picking partners who preferred a gentle hand in the bedroom, but he can feel himself hardening in spite of that at Will's aggressive ministrations. 

He wonders distantly, as his head is thrust hard against the chair with the force of the kiss, if Will has always been like this or if this harsh treatment is something only Hannibal has earned with his callous past actions. The thought is as pleasing as it is frightening. 

Hannibal groans, startled, when Will's teeth sink deep into his lower lip, breaking skin and drawing blood. The familiar, metallic scent floods his nose as Will sucks hard on the torn skin.  Hannibal's eyes flutter open and he finds the other watching him with cloudy eyes, mouth working tenaciously on the bleeding lip. The smoldering heat in Will's eyes draws a sound that's suspiciously close to a whimper out of him and Hannibal's hips buck up on their own volition, desperately seeking some friction. 

Will _growls_ at that and pulls away, releasing Hannibal's mouth with a final nip and clumsily yanks at the starched collar of his shirt to expose his neck. Before Hannibal can even protest about the careless handling, Will descends on his neck, latching on to the delicate skin, kissing and biting none too gently while his hand works to further ruin the fabric covering Hannibal. 

It is regard for his suit that forces Hannibal to release his death grip on Will to undo the buttons of his vest- the jacket having been discarded earlier on to encourage the informality of his sessions with Will- but his fingers slip and fumble, the feel of a wet, hot mouth on his throat severely distracting his faculties. Between the two of them, the buttons are undone- some ripped off altogether by Will 's impatient hands- and Hannibal's shirt and vest are parted to the sides to expose his chest. 

Will closes his mouth over Hannibal's pulse and sucks, teeth grazing the skin, and he grabs on to the younger man once again in an attempt to ground himself. 

Without warning, Will draws back and slides of Hannibal's lap, backing up a step to properly look at the disheveled man on the chair. Hannibal imagines that he must look quite a sight, hair mussed, clothes torn, body flushed and almost painfully aroused. He's surprised at the vehemence with which he mourns the abrupt loss of contact. 

Will's eyes run over him, a smirk teasing his lips at the obvious bulge straining against his slacks. Hannibal closes his eyes and tries to regulate his breathing, willing his body to _calm down_ so that he can conduct the conversation that is sure to follow this... development with his dignity intact. 

It is worrying, to say the least, the strength of his reaction to Will. Worrying, how deeply affected Hannibal is by the distinctly dominant way Will handled him, all traces of the awkward man he once knew erased completely. 

Even more worrying is how Hannibal wants nothing more than to pull Will back to him and let him do as he pleases. 

His thoughts are far from helpful and Hannibal is still fully erect when he opens his eyes to see Will studying him with something that can only be amusement in his gaze. 

“We're not done, Hannibal.” 

Will peels off his shirt with ease and stalks forward until he's standing between Hannibal's spread legs and looking down at him. 

“Always so controlled, never giving an inch.” Will murmurs, gently curling a hand around Hannibal's throat, the pressure light for now, “It makes me want to methodically destroy you, just to see that restraint shatter.” 

A beat passes between them, heavy and fraught with tension, and then Hannibal lunges with predatory grace, crashing into Will who staggers under their combined weight. 

The struggle is fierce but short-lived; Hannibal is not as set on winning as he should be and he goes willingly when Will turns and slams him face down on his own desk. Will drapes himself across Hannibal’s back, skin pressed to skin. His breath falls hot on Hannibal's ear when he says, “You submit so easily, eagerly even. I'm quite flattered at the... privilege. But you're still thinking, Hannibal. We should fix that.” 

He gasps, startled when Will thrusts his hips against his clothed back, the definite line of his erection digging into Hannibal's ass. The sudden loss when Will pulls away is as distressing as before and Hannibal prepares to rise off the table only to pause when the other man presses his palm down hard against the small of his back. 

“Stay.” 

Under normal circumstances, Hannibal would never listen to such a command, would even feel offended at being told to 'Stay' as if he were one of Will's rescued strays. But there is nothing even remotely _normal_ about any of this and the same part of Hannibal that delightfully gave himself over to Will compels him to remain like that, torso pushed flat against unyielding wood, legs splayed obscenely wide. 

He frowns, unseen, when Will begins to free him of his slacks, sliding the smooth material down his legs along with his briefs. 

“Will, what are you doing?” 

Hannibal receives no response other than a laugh and an insistent nudge on his left leg. He lifts both his legs one by one so that Will can properly remove the clothes but his frown only grows when the cool air hits the freshly revealed skin, raising the hair along his body. He feels... exposed like this. And nervous, uncertain of what Will is intending to do. While Hannibal is certainly interested, in both mind and body, his inexperience with all this is something feels acutely. If Will plans to fuck him... 

He hums happily when Will places a tender kiss on the nape of his neck and trails more of the same down his spine, quick, feather-light things that are meant to tease. Will's hands slide down to grab Hannibal’s ass, the grip rough and possessive, alien and arousing. And it is so very tempting to whip around and pull Will back against him, and kiss him until-

Hannibal cries out, sharp and sudden, when something wet and hot laps against his opening. The sensation is bizarre, entirely overwhelming and the next sound that slips past his parted lips is a helpless moan when Will runs his tongue along the sensitive skin. 

He's not sure whether or not he wants the other to stop and he devotes all his focus to remaining silent, head buried in his forearms as Will continues to lick and suck, each swipe of his tongue sending fire rushing through Hannibal's body, pooling in his groin. 

He bites down hard on his lips when Will wraps a hand around Hannibal's cock, not stroking, simply fisting the base in a tight grip. And it feels wonderful, the pressure perfect and he thinks that he just might be able to come like this. Then, Will pushes in past the tight ring of muscles and Hannibal whimpers into his arms, eyes shut tight enough to see white behind his lids. Will starts thrusting his tongue in and out of Hannibal and he nearly screams as his entire being is wrecked with strange, too-intense pleasure. 

Will is relentless and merciless, working Hannibal expertly with his hands and tongue. By the time Will ceases his assault on his ass and pulls away, Hannibal is panting raggedly and holding on to the desk with palpable desperation, on the edge and _needing_ the push to finally send him over. Will strokes him again, just one, hard pump and then Hannibal is coming, cursing in a mix of French and English, Will's name lost in the torrent of broken syllables. 

His knees give out and Hannibal slides off the desk and back, but it's a strong, warm body that greets him instead of the cold floor. Will holds him almost gently through the aftershocks, kissing his brow and face with something that might just pass for affection. 

Once he fully regains his senses, Hannibal turns in the circle of Will's arms to pull him into a sloppy kiss that the other returns with a low chuckle. They end up stretched out on the floor, bodies twined around each other. 

He slides a hand between their bodies, intending to touch Will, not out of obligation but out of genuine desire, only to be met with a damp spot on the younger man's pants. Will smiles into their kiss, grabbing Hannibal's wandering hand with one of his own and tangling their fingers together. 

Hannibal groans quietly when Will's nails press sharply against the marks already blooming on his neck and breaks the kiss to nuzzle against Will's cheek. 

Soft lips brush his ear in a quick kiss as Will continues to trace the bruises with possessive fervor. 

“Good luck-,” he murmurs, lips brushing Hannibal's ear, “-explaining these to Alana.” 


	2. My teeth in your heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You just love to push me, don't you?" Will asks, his breath falling hot on Hannibal's mouth. He's not given a chance to answer, Will crashing their lips together in a frantic kiss not a second later. Hannibal nearly groans at the dearly missed taste of Will. The kiss starts rough but it gentles after a moment, shifting into a deep and thorough exploration that fills Hannibal with a sense of sweet satisfaction. A faint shudder courses through him when Will slides a hand into his hair, the soft drag of his fingers drawing a moan from Hannibal._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the second chapter that I never meant to write…XD

Alana and Will arrive at nearly the same time. Hannibal is undeniably amused when he opens the door to find them both standing there, bodies set in rigid lines, tension etched on the planes of their faces. Inviting the two of them for dinner is a lovely recipe for disaster but that's why he did it in the first place. 

His interactions with both these people have changed considerably since that day in his office when he let Will strip him of his dignity and composure and mark him with the proof of their shared pleasure. Hannibal does not regret it. Quite the opposite, in fact. But Will on the other hand has more or less ignored that event for the last few weeks, treating Hannibal with only that unlikely blend of anger and affection he has expressed ever since his release from the BSHCI. And even though he makes no attempt to hide the challenge in his eyes every time he deals with Hannibal, it is unaccompanied by the suggestive hints that littered his demeanor before. 

It infuriates Hannibal. His hesitant desire for Will has grown into a violent craving and the other man's blatantly deliberate ignorance drives him to a sort of contained rage that wrecks more damage inside Hannibal than outside. His anger is a multifaceted entity, directed at a variety of sources- at himself, for his embarrassing susceptibility to one Will Graham and his fascinating unpredictability, at Will for arousing such longing and confusion in Hannibal and then refusing to acknowledge any of it, at Alana, for simply being herself and the exact opposite of what he now needs. 

He is aware that he could try to force the issue with Will and acquire a solid resolution. He certainly does not lack the opportunities for something of the kind. But a direct confrontation where he cannot control at least a majority of the variables has never been something Hannibal preferred and this is no exception. And if he were to be a little more honest with himself, he would confess that he does fear rejection no matter how many times his logical brain vehemently insists that what Will is doing is merely manipulation and that his desire for Hannibal has not actually died an abrupt death. 

Alana is another matter entirely, her relationship with him now strained for a wide array of reasons that leave Hannibal with little wish for a sweet reconciliation. And the most damning of these reasons is that she is simply not _Will_. Hannibal has not been intimate with her ever since that day and while the excuse he gave himself may have been that he had to hide the very telling bruises on his neck from her, the truth remains that his fantasies features not her soft, pliant form but rather the defined muscles and calloused fingers of the object of his fixation. 

And Hannibal can admit, as he welcomes Alana with a tender kiss to the lips, that this dinner is not meant to bridge the growing fissure between his two friends but rather to provoke Will into something more than practiced apathy. 

He catches Will's eyes when he draws back from Alana, notices the way they've become curiously blank, and is assured that he will succeed. 

The evening is as entertaining as he assumed thanks to the strange dynamics between the two of them. 

Alana is only marginally subtle in her mistrust of Will and delightfully transparent in her protectiveness of Hannibal. Perhaps she would not be so easy to read for most but as her companions for the night are two men gifted with extraordinary perception, such is not the case. Will, on the other hand, is nearly inscrutable. He wears a veil of distant politeness without wavering and completely ignores the way Hannibal and Alana flirt almost incessantly throughout dinner. Hannibal would be discouraged if it weren’t for the telltale tightening at the corners of Will's mouth. 

But surprisingly, it is Alana who turns dinner from a one-sided battleground to something more grievous. 

"Freddie Lounds came to see me today. She warned me about you. She sees something that no one else sees." 

"What's that?” 

"That neither of you is the killer she's writing about but together, you might be." 

The words send a spike of alarm through Hannibal, not fear but something like wary excitement. He's not annoyed at Freddie's flash of brilliance but slightly impressed. It truly is a pity that she chose to waste such wonderful potential on such a hopeless career. Especially since it has led to a circumstance that leaves him with no other choice than to eliminate her from the game. 

The glance he shares with Will is quick and meaningful. The smooth dance of words they engage in afterwards is stunning in its graceful coordination. It's an ecstatic experience to observe Will side with him without reluctance and defend their relationship with such casual affection. 

Alana is clearly not convinced by their elusive responses but she seems content to remain silent for the moment despite the fact that her suspicion now extends to them both. A regrettable consequence but Hannibal knows firsthand how smart Alana is and nothing but the truth they can never give her would ever eradicate her doubts. She's harmless though and honestly, the earnest _hope_ still lingering in her eyes as she looks at Hannibal, hope that screams that she wants nothing more than to trust him blindly, is so very endearing. 

They finish their dinner in silence. Hannibal can feel the attention of both his companions on him at various times and he does not need to see them to discriminate between the fleeting pressure of Alana's furtive glances and the compressed weight of Will's stony glares. He deliberately catches the other man's look once and the smoldering intensity in those bright blue orbs send a sharp thrill racing through his body. 

It's with an eerie sense of relief that he rises from the table, announcing that he needs to get their dessert. He locks eyes with Will as he presses a chaste kiss to Alana's cheek before leaving and has to bite back a grin at the barely contained storm raging in his eyes. 

He does not hear the quiet murmur of conversation in the dining room after his departure, nor does he hear Will's quiet steps following him to the kitchen. 

A whiff of cheap cologne alerts him to the other's presence and he turns around, adopting an insincere expression of puzzlement, only to find himself caught and pinned unceremoniously to the kitchen counter, its edge digging into his back. Will's face is impassive save for his eyes which are gleaming with volatile emotions. His body is pressed hard against Hannibal's, each electrifying point of contact burning into Hannibal through the multiple layers of their clothing. 

It is _perfect._

"You just love to push me, don't you?" Will asks, his breath falling hot on Hannibal's mouth. 

He's not given a chance to answer, Will crashing their lips together in a frantic kiss not a second later. Hannibal nearly groans at the dearly missed taste of Will. The kiss starts rough but it gentles after a moment, shifting into a deep and thorough exploration that fills Hannibal with a sense of sweet satisfaction. A faint shudder courses through him when Will slides a hand into his hair, the soft drag of his fingers drawing a moan from Hannibal. 

He frowns in annoyance when the other pulls away, too dizzy with the pleasure of having the man so close like this again to pay much heed to the fact that Alana is just outside, in hearing range. But Will only watches him through narrowed eyes, that piercing blue gaze drilling into Hannibal as if attempting to pry open his mind for a quick peek inside. Hannibal does not shrink away from the scrutiny, bearing it without complaint and allowing his eyes to reflect what he feels. 

He wanted Will to come to him. He got his wish. There is no need to hide his triumph. 

He gasps, startled, when Will thrusts a leg against Hannibal's groin with no warning, rubbing insistently at his cock through his slacks. The abrupt spike of pleasure is jarring and Hannibal throws a glance at the entrance to the kitchen, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that Alana could walk in any moment to catch them like this. 

"Will-" he starts only to purse his lips to stifle a whimper when Will's hand snakes down to grab him, squeezing the rapidly hardening flesh with little gentleness. 

"This is what you wanted me to do, right?" Will whispers, voice low and hoarse. "What you hoped?" It isn't really a question. 

Again, his response is stolen by a kiss, this one more languid than the last, teasing brushes of lips and tongue that warms him all over. His hips rock into Will's touch almost helplessly, seeking more friction. Will trails his lips over Hannibal's chin and he tips back his head with a sigh for Will to mouth along the curve of his throat, sucking gently at the skin, flicking out his tongue to taste the sweat beading there. 

"You won't touch her again," Will growls into his throat, anger lacing his tone. Hannibal allows his amusement to color his smug reply. 

"As you wish. All you had to do was _ask_ , Will." 

His breath escapes him in a sharp hiss when Will pushes the heel of his palm against his cock, increasing the pressure almost vindictively. 

"Will. _Will_ \- I-" He closes his eyes, giving in and focusing solely on the pleasure building in his body, the wet warmth of Will's mouth-

"What the  _hell!_ " 

The words, and the familiar feminine voice uttering them, penetrates his blissful haze and Hannibal stills, his body freezing in the cozy confines of Will's hold. After a second of consideration, he opts to remain as he is instead of trying to break away. Will pauses in his ministrations as well but he doesn’t move from his spot, pressed flush against Hannibal with a hand on his cock and his face tucked into his throat. 

"I am sorry, Alana." It's not entirely a lie. He never actively wanted to hurt her. But in the grand scheme of things, she doesn't matter and their relationship would not have lasted anyway. 

He can feel Will's pleased grin against his neck and it brings a small smile to his face. 

And he would be lying if he were to say that the look of betrayal and vivid fury that dawns on her face at his words is anything short of exquisite. 

He keenly notes the way her lips twist into a snarl as her eyes flicker to Will's form fused with Hannibal's and he expects a confrontation then and there. But in one smooth moment, she turns around and flees, the sound of her heels hitting the floor nearly deafening as she all but runs out of the house. It isn't long before the loud screeching of types against the pavement reaches them. 

Will chuckles, a dark noise devoid of all sympathy that sends a not unpleasant shiver down Hannibal's spine. He buries his face in the younger man's tamed curls, breathing him in with relish. Will let's him do that for a few moments before pulling away, stepping back with a final squeeze to Hannibal's erection. 

"I hope you won't find me too rude if I turn down dessert for tonight," Will tells him, a definite undercurrent of harmless mockery in his words. 

Hannibal merely raises an eyebrow in question. 

"I am sure I've told you that I dislike being manipulated," Will murmurs with a fond shake of his head. He leans in just enough to peck Hannibal on the cheek. 

"Now, excuse me. But I have dogs to feed back home." 

Hannibal's eyes widen in understanding but he does not try to stop Will as he leaves with almost as much haste as Alana. He even returns the lopsided smirk Will throws him as he slips out of the kitchen with a conceding nod. 

Fair enough. 

A dinner ruined and a friendship lost but Hannibal can't quite bring himself to regret the night. After all, he did get what he wanted. 

Now, all he has to do is wait for his erection to fade. 

         

҉

   

_Freddie Lounds is dead._

Will has been expecting this ever since Alana told him of the woman’s dangerously accurate theories during that eventful dinner. He had seen it flash in Hannibal's eyes that night, a sliver of cold determination mingled with amusement, and known that the woman would soon die. 

He even warned Jack out of a lingering sense of obligation if not any real wish to save her. His ties to Jack are more or less severed by now, the experienced agent finally sensing Will's growing reticence concerning the capture of Hannibal. The confrontation he forced on Will did not go well, predictably. In fact, he's quite certain that Jack now believes he is their resident cannibal's willing accomplice. Not quite the truth but Will left that meeting feeling quite glad that he did not inform Jack of his part in Tier's death. Jack can suspect all he wants but without solid proof, his hands are tied. 

And neither Will nor Hannibal are going to give him that. 

But as apathetic he is about Freddie's murder and the subsequent presentation featuring her charred body, he is glad that Hannibal didn't try to get Will to kill her. He would never have been able to do that no matter how much he loathed her. The side effect of having morals that, though degraded significantly, still constitute an integral part of his individuality. 

They don't really prevent him from partaking in Hannibal's version of fine dining though. He's already a cannibal, no matter how unwittingly. And the hard determination he summoned in the beginning while entering this farce remains even now though the charade itself has slowly but surely morphed into reality. 

In the deep caverns if his mind, the Will Graham of old is probably screaming. He doesn't really care.

"Are you alright, Will?" The question, asked in a neutral tone, rouses him from his thoughts and jerks his head up to look at Hannibal. The doctor's face gives nothing away but Will notices that his plate is as untouched as Will's own is. Idly, he wonders how long he just sat there staring blankly at his food. 

Hannibal has probably seen worse from him. 

"Just thinking," Will answers flippantly, mouth twisting into a sardonic smirk. He does not look away from Hannibal as he raises a forkful of meat to his mouth, the action slow and deliberate. 

He chews, once, twice, before swallowing. He feels no sick jolt of revulsion and reluctantly admits to himself that having a mind as grotesque as his can be useful at times. 

"Doesn't taste like people," Will says with little inflection, "Of course, I didn't realize the difference all those times before so I'm not likely to start now." 

His comment garners him a soft, genuinely pleased smile from Hannibal who takes a bite of his own. What follows is a thinly-veiled discussion of cannibalism that Will finds more humorous than anything else. Perhaps he's now well and truly crazy as Jack said. Or perhaps the idea of Freddie being bitter about death is just that funny. 

It's Will who shifts the playful tone of their banter with little warning, his voice dropping low and serious as he asks, "As happy as I am that the world is finally rid of this little viper, I'm curious about something. Did it ever occur to you when you killed Freddie that the blame would be cast on me? Or was that part of the plan?" 

Hannibal eyes him carefully, wariness slowly creeping into his expression. He pauses to chew and swallow his mouthful before answering. 

"It did occur to me, yes. But suspicion alone is of no consequence in the absence of proof." 

"Suspicion alone is enough to alienate me even further from those I once considered friends. But of course, you only see that as a positive result." 

Hannibal shrugs, an almost imperceptible movement of his shoulders that conveys his absolute disregard for the situation remarkably well. 

"Alana doubts you. Jack doubts me. I'm sure that they will both soon doubt _us_. I'm as alienated from them as you are. Does it matter when we have each other?" 

Will takes a few sips of his wine, not really tasting any of it, and spends an indefinite amount of time merely staring at the ruby liquid. Hannibal's words resonate inside him with a sense of rightness that should be frightening. 

"You don't want me to have anyone in my life that's not you," he states at length, returning his gaze to Hannibal. "Are you willing to extend the same courtesy to me?" 

The idea has a strange sort of appeal. He's always been somewhat afraid of hurting those he allowed himself to care for. That fear is absent with Hannibal. Not because he thinks he can't hurt Hannibal but because he wants to. And Will himself is already familiar with the sweet poison of the other and it isn't as scary as he first felt it was. 

"Yes." It's only a single word but it’s the way Hannibal says it that arrests him. It's an eager admission breathed with a smile of unhidden joy that causes possessiveness to flare hot in Will. 

He deserts his seat without a thought spared for propriety and swiftly circles the table to stand beside Hannibal, who looks up at him with curious eyes. He leans down to catch the man's lips in a kiss, brief and gentle. Hannibal smiles against his mouth, abandoning the meal in favor of cupping Will's face. 

"It's a bad idea, you know. Alana's right- our relationship is destructive. For us both." 

Hannibal seems unconcerned by the ominous announcement. He stands up, never letting go off Will, and pulls him into another kiss, just as chaste as the last. 

"Do you still wish to kill me?" 

"Yes. But I can't let you die," Will whispers, all too aware of the confusing paradox of his feelings. Hannibal grins in response, showing a hint of sharp, crooked teeth. It's not entirely a pleasant expression. 

"I wouldn't truly mind if it came down to it," Hannibal tells him softly as if imparting some great secret. "I can't think of a better way to die than by your hands." 

Will would be the first to admit that arousal is far from the most _healthy _response to such a statement but he doesn't stop to analyze his reaction before kissing the other again, this time with a ferocity that is almost manic. Hannibal tastes of wine and meat and death. Will kisses him until he's breathless, pours the vexing mixture of his feelings into the kiss until it's brimming with violence. Hannibal takes it all without complaint, allows Will to plunder his mouth and manhandle him towards the closest wall with the same inviting compliance as the last two times they did this.__

"You make me want things I've never-" Will hisses when they part, cutting himself off by kissing Hannibal again with though force to make it seem as if he were trying to crawl inside the other. It's Hannibal who pulls away this time, grabbing Will's face in a firm hold to stare into his eyes. 

"Anything," he tells Will in a harsh huff of breath, "Anything you want. You can have all of me. Only you, Will." He sounds almost pained, as if the admission is being torn out of him against his will. 

Will laughs, not even a hint of humor in the desperate sound, and buries his head under Hannibal's chin, breathing in the scent of cologne and the less prominent scent of Hannibal hidden underneath. 

Hannibal's offer, so obviously genuine, fills him with a sense of power that is far greater than what he felt while killing Hobbs or Tier. It is a heady sensation burning through his veins to mingle with his desire until he's trembling under their combined weight. 

"Your mouth," Will mutters into Hannibal's neck, mouthing for a moment at the skin there, tasting salt and sweat. "I want to fuck your mouth." 

Hannibal freezes against him. Will can feel his throat working in a nervous swallow and it reminds him that Hannibal has never done this before, that he is giving himself over to Will in a way he's never done before. While that thought may have roused tenderness within him in another, kinder life, now it only calls to existence a ferocious wave of lust that forces a moan out of him. 

Hannibal flips them the next instant and Will's back hits the wall with a jarring thud. Before he can react, Hannibal drops to his knees before him, staring up at Will through the loose locks of his hair. There is uncertainty written over the sculpted lines of his visage, not a deliberate ploy but true vulnerability. Will finds him extraordinarily beautiful in that moment. 

Will passively allows Hannibal to expose his half-hard cock, tilting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes when he feels tentative, exploring touches along his length. It's a herculean effort to keep quiet while Hannibal has his fill of caressing him, his fingers gaining more firmness with each passing moment. Finally, he reaches down to stop him, catching the wandering hand in a tight hold. Hannibal is smiling up at him, the corners of his eyes crinkled merrily. 

He's about to shove his most sensitive part in a cannibal's mouth and what he feels is the complete opposite of trepidation. 

Will gasps out loud when Hannibal experimentally mouths at the head of his cock. It has been so long since he's done this and the fact that it is _Hannibal_ down here on his knees for him only serves to make it that more intense.  He holds himself still with bated breath as Hannibal takes him in as much as he can, inch by torturous inch, wrapping the hand now freed from Will's around the base. 

Hannibal’s mouth feels amazing, hot and wet and utterly overwhelming. Once, when their strange relationship was not tainted by lies and cruelty, when it held that inexplicable fondness now lost to much darker things, Will would've taken this slow, would've been sweet and gentle and considerate. But now there's savagery lurking just under his skin and all he wants is to ruin Hannibal, to tear him apart until he's in tatters at Will's feet. Hannibal looks at him with hooded eyes, a knowing glint in them and for some reason, it reminds Will that despite the veneer of softness the other has worn this afternoon, the man he holds in thrall is still very much a monster who will not be broken by anything Will can do to him. 

And it's that belief that drives him to roughly thrust into Hannibal, no kindness in his actions as he slides deep into the man's mouth, feeling him choke and sputter around the sudden intrusion. It's hard and brutal and Will doesn't care that Hannibal is unused to this, that he may be hurting him. And Hannibal does not try to stop him even when he struggles to breathe around Will's length as his mouth is abused by ruthless thrusts. 

It's so easy to lose himself to the slick slide of his cock, to heat and suction and the frantic convulsions of Hannibal's throat around him. His climax builds slow and steady, finally crashing into Will and sweeping away all reason, numbing his mind and sealing his senses. His eyes flutter open after what feels like an eternity of pleasure to find Hannibal still on the floor, coughing into his hand, head bowed down. 

He falls to his knees beside the other, who raises his head to look at him. Hannibal's face is flushed, his lips swollen and gleaming with semen and saliva. His eyes are wide open and dazed, nearly hidden by the hair that falls messily into them. Before he can think better of it, Will pulls Hannibal into an embrace that is tinged with desperation, throwing his arms around the older man with crushing strength. Hannibal reciprocates with matching vigor, resting his chin on Will's shoulder with a faint sigh. 

"Your throat will be sore tomorrow," Will states because he needs to say something and if he isn't careful, he will confess something neither of them should hear. 

"It's alright," Hannibal replies, voice gritty and hoarse. _Wrecked._

Will clutches him tighter for an indefinable instant before pulling away and pushing Hannibal insistently until he's lying on the floor, frowning with bemusement. Will smirks at him, quick and rakish, and palms Hannibal's crotch through the fine fabric of his tailored pants. 

"We're not done yet," Will whispers, lowering his mouth to the evident bulge of his erection. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the rough idea for one more chapter. It might take a while though, life is kinda hectic.

**Author's Note:**

> I remember once telling Entity_Sylvir that I would probably be too shy to ever write rimming. I am gladly eating my words right now. ~~Though I guess there was a time when I was too shy to write any sort of smut…~~
> 
> _Comments and kudos are love!_ Please point out any and all errors. Come say hi on [tumblr](http://silverangelfeathers.tumblr.com) .
> 
>  


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